Chasing Lights
by Brokenspell77
Summary: Sequel to The Greatest Gift. Punk finds himself alone on New Years Eve and has to deal with the reality that more often than not Dean will be travelling the world with WWE and not with him. And as he stares into the Christmas tree lights he begins to question if they can make their relationship work. WARNING: Explicit slash/Swearing. *ONE SHOT* Dean Ambrose/CM Punk. PunkBrose.


**Thank you so much to all that read, fave, followed and reviewed my first attempt at PunkBrose. I was relieved you enjoyed it as I was incredibly nervous about it! And now here's the sequel. It's set at New Years and follows straight on from The Greatest Gift. Naturally my brain decided to come up with this story well after New Years because apparently my brain doesn't like to be cooperative, nor helpful. LOL. But hey at least it's still January, and we aren't too far into 2015!**

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><p>The lights still twinkled, wrapped intricately around the branches of the tree. Each colour bright and flashing, and Punk found himself sitting back watching them, but again not really seeing them. They were nothing more than blurred shapes of vibrant colours that slowly drew in on each other until they blended and faded to black. The lights had an almost mocking feeling about them, a reminder of how they flickered and shimmered over him and Dean on Christmas morning whilst they fucked under the Christmas tree. Reminded him of how unbelievably happy he felt that morning. Punk could remember vividly resting on his knees and elbows with Dean leant over him, holding him close, Dean's body all over him, hot gasps in his ear and suddenly the lights had taken hold of him, he followed each colour, watched them flash on and off with a smile on his face and then a strange warmth enveloped him and made his skin prickle and a surge of emotion swelled in his heart as his stomach flipped. He remembered it clear as day and his skin goose pimpled as the memory washed over him. He came back to himself and the colours separated, flashing independently once more. He stared on, thought back to that moment under the tree on Christmas morning when he realised that what he was feeling was a level of happiness he had never reached before. He was so content, so unbelievably happy and head over heels in love. He had everything he wanted in life. He was healthy, he had new career paths, and he had Dean.<p>

He chased the lights, trying to catch up with them, watching each colour flash faster and faster until slowly they merged together again and the cycle restarted. He had forgotten how much of a roller coaster life could be. How rough you can be treated on the ride. So many high points were followed by so many scary turns that almost make you want to vomit, and then came some swift descents where you're unsure if you'll ever come back up again. Punk was so enraptured with Dean for those few days, just being with him, having him in his home he had forgotten that he would be back on the road sooner rather than later and by the weekend he found himself saying goodbye. The WWE machine barely stopped, the holiday season didn't matter, being with family and friends had to be sacrificed and Punk felt relieved he was free from those rigours. But ironically now the one person he wanted to be with would still be living that life, and leaving him alone in Chicago.

Dean left him with a slow, deep and tender kiss and a promise of making it back to Chicago for New Years Eve. However after the SmackDown taping late on Tuesday night Punk received a text from Dean to say his early morning flight that was scheduled for the next day had been cancelled and there wasn't another flight out of Virginia that would get him to Chicago in time for New Years. Punk understood it was out of their control, and he didn't blame Dean in any way whatsoever, but it hammered home a problem that they would have to face time and time again; separation.

The WWE schedule was hectic, unforgiving and punishing and most of the time the men and women on the main roster would be lucky to get home for two days a week. When you're a bigger star those odds are even less in your favour. You're expected to and pressured into doing interviews, signings and public appearances. Plus Dean had his own home in Las Vegas too, and Punk realised Dean would need to go to back to his own home. He would want to. So where would that leave him? Where would it leave them? When would they see each other? Punk told himself the day he watched Dean leave his home it could all be worked out, that he shouldn't be worrying so quickly when they haven't even tried to make their relationship work yet, but then came the text that Dean would not be with him when 2015 hit, and it made all those fears return in abundance.

The cycle completed and the colours broke apart again. Blue, to green, to red, to purple, he chased the lights, watched them change and blink rapidly and Punk chuckled bitterly to himself. He had it all, everything he wanted, and what he wanted most he had for a fraction of a second. But then when someone gets all that they desire all they want is more. As selfish as it may be Punk couldn't help but wish Dean was there with him and not travelling the length and breadth of the country week in and week out. He wanted him in his home, in his bed, in his arms every night. He wasn't sure he could handle being apart for so long, and so often.

Again the journey of lights came full circle and Punk could take no more. He strode across the room and yanked the plug from the wall. He dropped it to the ground carelessly and left the room in darkness heading to bed. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the covers, the smell of Dean still lingered on the sheets that he clung to and on the pillow he rested his head on. He breathed in deep, taking it all in, but it didn't help the hole that had reopened in his chest. Like a vortex it was sucking all of the happiness and joy out of him, leaving nothing but the empty void he had already lived with and endured for eleven months. He looked over at the clock; 10.30pm. Only an hour and a half until 2015 arrived, and Punk had no intention of being awake to ring in the New Year alone.

...

Dean quickly handed over the fare to the taxi driver and made haste toward Punk's door. Chicago was fucking freezing and the bitter wind hit him hard in the face. He wished for warmer weather in a different place, but there was one thing he wanted more than that and he could only get it by coming to Chicago. He rifled through his pocket and located the key Punk had given him in case he wasn't home at the time Dean was meant to arrive back in Chicago and hurriedly closed out the cold. The heat in Punk's home quickly banished away the effects of the Windy City and he felt a sense of comfort take over him.

Once upstairs in the house he dumped his suitcase and bags near the door and progressed further into the pitch black darkness that had overtaken Punk's residence. He thought Punk would be awake, waiting for the ball to drop, but the house was strikingly quiet. He headed straight for Punk's bedroom, quietly opened the door and padded over to the bed. He caught the time as he approached; 11.42pm. He heard soft little snuffles and quiet breathing as he neared the bed and then Punk came into view. He was wrapped up in the sheets, only his head visible. Dean smiled, thinking a man of thirty six shouldn't look so cute, but he did. He perched on the edge of the bed and ran a thumb over Punk's cheek. There was a frown and almost sad look on Punk's face and he wondered if it were there due to Punk not thinking he would get to his place in time for New Year. Dean felt the need to remove it, to ensure Punk's happiness and give him the best New Year. He placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and slowly sleepy eyes crept open.

'Dean?' Punk's voice was quiet as if he couldn't believe he was there. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes to clear away the fog. A faint smile got brighter and bigger as it was confirmed in Punk's own mind that Dean was well and truly there and before he knew it Dean had his arms full with an excited Punk in his lap kissing him fiercely. 'I didn't think you could get here?' Punk asked before kissing him again.

'I had to take an alternative route that took me to an extra few airports and an extra few hours, but I wasn't going to miss being with you.' Dean smiled and ran his hands up and down Punk's warm back. He had missed the heat that radiated from Punk's body, all that soft skin under his palms, he missed seeing him and touching him. It had only been a few days, less than a week, but he yearned for Punk the entire time he was away. Sat alone in hotel rooms he had wished to be curled up back in bed with him instead. Dean held him closer and just looked at him. Punk wore a look of confusion at the heavy and intent gaze, and Dean answered it simply with I missed you. Punk wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him again.

'What's the time?'

'Quarter to twelve.' Dean answered as he looked over Punk's shoulder back at the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. 'You too tired to ring in the New Year with me? You wanna go back to bed?'

Punk shook his head and got back to his feet. 'Go set up the TV, there's food and drink already in the living room. I'll be there in a second I just need to piss.'

Dean walked back downstairs, staggered around in the dark for a while in search of the light switch. He hadn't grown accustomed to the layout of Punk's home yet. As the house was bathed in light Dean saw that Punk had certainly gone to some effort. He had Pepsi and a whole host of other beverages in an ice cooler, even some beer and whiskey which Dean surmised was bought especially for him. Then there was also a whole assortment of food on plates and in bowls ranging from sandwiches, chips, sausage rolls, cake and pizza. A whole feast was laid out on the table and Dean felt a warmth spread throughout him and a smile grace his face. This was perfect. He heard footsteps approach and Punk appeared huddled in a blanket. Dean took off his jacket and the TV was switched on and they cuddled up on the couch.

'You've been wearing the leather jacket I got you.' Punk smiled as he settled down beside Dean, his head resting on his shoulder. He knew Dean would like it, after all he said he liked Punk's which was similar, but seeing him wear it brought forth something in Punk he wasn't sure he could define. All he knew was that he couldn't stop smiling or placing soft kisses all over his lovers face.

'I haven't taken it off.' Dean sighed contentedly as Punk snuggled closer and he rested his chin on top of Punk's head after placing a kiss to the mess of tangled hair.

'You go to sleep wearing it, huh?' Punk smirked as he ran his fingers over Dean's chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered 'Smartass.' Punk chuckled and kissed him passionately again. It turned more intense in a hurry and soon Dean's shirt was thrown to the floor and Punk was straddling him. 'I missed you so much.'

'I missed you too.' Punk smiled, but Dean could see something hiding behind it. Punk had something on his mind, he was worried, nervous and truth be told Dean had felt the same way during their separation. The moment he sent the text that it was looking likely he wouldn't be able to make it back to Chicago and back to Punk for New Years a dark mood fell over him. Something unpleasant hung in the air, a dark black cloud, that could bring forth a tempest. And he knew Punk felt it too. The distance that would be forced upon them needed to be discussed and he knew it.

Their attention was dragged away before they could bring up the subject as the countdown to 2015 began. Punk seemed happy enough to sit in Dean's lap looking back over his shoulder as the clock hit zero. The TV boomed with cheering and cries from crowds of people as music blared. Fireworks erupted on the TV, and an echo sounded just outside in the cold night of Chicago as bright colours and explosions of sound took over the sky. There was so much noise. Noise from all around, but inside Punk's house there was nothing but silence. A tender kiss exchanged as they held each other close.

'Happy New Year, baby.' Dean pushed back the hair from Punk's face, running his fingers through the thick strands to look deep into his eyes. His heart was thudding, and he knew in that moment that this was where he belonged and that the threatening cloud hanging over their heads wouldn't change that.

'Happy New Year.' The kiss recommenced and deepened. Punk kissed Dean hard, his hands going to work on his belt buckle. He looked up to see Dean with a warm smile on his face, the look that makes him feel special, that makes him feel like he's burning up and so freaking adored and loved. He couldn't hide the grin on his face and the hole that had developed in his chest during Dean's absence was momentarily sealed shut again and his heart clenched tight and thundered in his chest as Dean kissed him just as hard and as passionately as he was kissing Dean.

The blanket fell to the floor and Punk couldn't help the shiver that ran through him as the cool air nipped at his skin. It was a stark contrast to the heat that flooded inside him and made his cheeks flush. Punk made no move to retrieve the blanket, he merely followed its descent to the floor between Dean's legs and pulled Dean's jeans and boxers off in one swift motion. Dean raised his hips to aid him and once naked with the apex of his tongue Punk licked up Dean's shaft. He slicked Dean's dick with saliva before kissing the head and tasting the copious amount of precum at the tip. Dean was desperate for more, and the teasing was too much. Punk smirked knowing what Dean wanted, but instead he took one ball into his mouth sucking gently on it before doing the same to the other. Dean raised his hips as Punk released his sack and rubbed his hard length over Punk's lips. Punk wrapped slender fingers around the base and finally took him deep into his mouth. Dean hummed delightedly as Punk's warm wet mouth engulfed him and his hand worked his way down to Punk's hair. He never pushed or pulled, just wanted and needed to touch Punk, and quickly his fist released it's grip and instead his fingers carded through Punk's damp hair instead.

Dean watched entranced, the way Punk's lips stretched around his cock, the way his eye lashes fluttered, but those penetrating hazel eyes never stopped looking up at him. Beauty in all it's glory. 'You like sucking my dick, baby?'

Punk sucked on the head ran his tongue all around the crown and smiled cheekily. 'What do you think?' He took Dean back in deeper, his throat closed so tightly and Dean couldn't hold back as he pumped his hips. Punk took it and held onto Dean's undulating hips, he choked a couple of times, but kept sucking and running his tongue along the shaft as Dean fucked his throat. Dean had both hands in Punk's hair now, a tighter grip and he knew he was close. He gasped hoarsely as he came. Punk swallowed all he had to offer. Dean's ass rested back on the couch and Punk sucked the sensitive head cleaning any remnants of cum that escaped his mouth. He nuzzled at Dean's thigh and gazed up at him affectionately. Dean's fingers ran through his hair and smiled down at him seeing the arousal dancing in his eyes and he ran a thumb delicately over Punk's pink swollen lips.

He gestured for Punk to come back to him and in a flash Punk was back on him, kissing and touching him everywhere. Dean's hands ran down his back and slid under the waistband of Punk's boxers and squeezed his ass. He loved the soft curve of Punk's ass, and how tight it felt around his dick. Every time they had sex it surprised Dean just how tight Punk was, always was, it was if they had never fucked before. Punk smirked against his lips and ground his ass against Dean's half hard dick. Punk's own dick throbbed and ached in his boxers, an ever growing wet spot forming on the front. One of Dean's hands slid around to the front and with his index finger he swiped at the fluid at the tip of Punk's cock and brought it to Punk's lips. Punk licked the digit, before being pulled back into a rough, hard, all consuming kiss as Dean craved to taste what Punk just had.

Dean pressed his forehead against Punk and took in the moment. Took in every detail. Every sight, every sound, every taste and touch. Punk tilted his chin up and kissed him ever so softly. Tender and loving, yet deep and so full of affection and love. Dean had never been kissed like that before, never felt such emotion rise up in him from just one kiss. But it wasn't just that it was a good kiss, or Punk being an exceptional kisser, it was because it meant so much. Punk meant so much to him. So many times when they were apart for eleven months Dean had wondered exactly what is was that he felt for Punk. He had never been in love before, he had been in relationships, been in lust countless times, but with Punk he was certain without a shadow of a doubt that there was a difference. A significant difference. Once he came to Chicago on Christmas Eve he realised he was completely and madly in love.

'I love you.' Dean whispered faintly against Punk's lips.

'I love you too.' Punk smiled gently and kissed the tip of Dean's nose.

Dean cradled Punk's head with both hands, thumbs running back and forth on each side of his bearded jaw. He looked straight into Punk, focused, determined. 'I really, really love you.' He was desperate for Punk to know, to make him realise that what they had was special to him, that he wasn't ever going to leave, that he would fight for them.

Punk sat back, he could read so much in those gorgeous blue eyes. They were shining, full of emotion and truth. Dean's words made his whole body hot and tingly. The weight of those words was not lost on Punk. 'I really, really love you too. I love you so fucking much...' Punk kissed him, trying to pour every ounce of passion, affection and love into one kiss. He clung onto Dean, moaned against his lips and once they parted both panting he felt he had done a pretty good job. 'You're my everything.' Punk worked up the courage to say, he felt his cheeks blaze red as he blushed and looked away, but Dean quickly brought his eyes back on him with a big grin on his face.

'No matter what I want you to know that you're what matters most to me.' Dean promised. 'Wrestling has been my life, my dream for so long, but you mean more. And I know that it won't be easy with me travelling so much and shit like getting stuck at the airport on New Years Eve is gonna happen, but I'll always come back. I promise.'

Punk nodded, composing himself, clearing his throat free from the bubbling emotion. 'I know. I just hated seeing you walk out the door, and I panicked. I wasn't sure I could handle being without you so much, but I'll make it work.'

'We'll make it work.' Dean corrected him kissing his forehead. Dean wrapped Punk up in his arms, holding him tight and close. He could never let this man go, now that he had him back there was just no way. Dean knew that he would have no regrets in putting Punk above all else in his life, even wrestling. For so long that had been his sole pursuit, his one dream, his main goal, but it didn't seem as important to him now. If he had to chose, he knew which one he would pick.

Punk could see thoughts whirring around in his lover's head. Hear the gears turning. See a decision being made. He ran a finger over the crinkles in his brow. 'What are you thinking about?'

'I'll quit.' Dean stated assuredly, and Punk could see from the look on his face that he meant it. He would give it all up for him. 'If that's what it comes down to...'

'No!' Punk cut him off instantly. There was no way he'd ever make or want Dean to be subjected to making a choice like that. He'd never give him an ultimatum. 'No way! I don't want that. You have to follow your dream.'

'You're more important.' Dean professed as he stroked his thumbs over Punk's hips.

'Dean, I would never ask you to choose. I'd never want you to. I want you to have all you deserve in life, and for you to achieve everything you've worked so hard and long for. I'm lucky enough to have somehow got everything I want and you deserve the same. Hell, you deserve even more.' Punk smiled as he kissed Dean on the forehead. A little part of him was moved by the dedication to him in Dean's words, happy that Dean felt so much for him, but not for a single second would he ever allow Dean to go ahead with such a choice. 'Okay?'

Dean nodded his understanding, and he could see the devotion in Punk's eyes. No one had ever looked at him in that way, never said such things to him, made him feel such things inside. There was no way he would let anything or anyone get in the way of their relationship. He was no fool there would be hard days, but no relationship goes untested. For right now though he was unbelievably happy and was going to bask in it and enjoy his days off with Punk. A finger ran down the crack of Punk's ass, circling around the pucker, teasing and tempting. Punk whimpered as Dean removed it, but as Dean held it out to him Punk quickly sucked on it, coating it in saliva, making it slick and it quickly returned and pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Punk grinned down at Dean as he pushed back against it, the digit sinking in up to the knuckle. Punk moved up and down, his speed slowly picking up until Dean pulled away. This time two fingers came to Punk's lips and he once again sucked on Dean's fingers all the while tasting himself. Dean felt his dick twitch and throb as it returned to its erect state at the erotic sight of Punk tasting his own flavour and a twinge of jealousy hit him. So he pushed back inside of Punk's tight channel, scissoring his fingers, preparing him fast and efficiently, but when he pulled out this time he sucked on his own fingers to taste his lover. Punk smirked at the big dimpled grin on his boyfriends face and kissed him forcefully, their tongues battled as Dean pushed Punk's boxers off his hips. Punk struggled out of them all the while not breaking their kiss or moving from Dean's lap.

The kiss became sloppy, wet and slow as Punk slowly sank onto Dean's length. Dean licked and nibbled at Punk's bottom lip as the tight warm heat surrounded him. Punk let out stuttered gasps as inch by inch Dean pushed inside of him and he whimpered quietly as he felt his whole body turn red hot. Nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the way it felt when Dean was inside of him. Punk paused briefly once he felt Dean's balls rest against his ass, a moment to compose himself, to stop himself from cumming embarrassingly quickly. He rose and fell slowly, moving higher up Dean's shaft on every ascend, until he found himself moving fast and leaving only the tip of Dean's cock inside of him before slamming down hard. Dean hand's were like vices on his hips, holding him close, and despite the force in those hands they somehow felt tender and caring. He looked down at Dean who's head had fallen back to rest on the back of the couch, but those blue eyes were transfixed. Watching him move, watching him breathe, watching him smile. Punk's dick was hard, bobbing with every movement he made. Slapping off Dean's stomach as he slammed his hips down harder, his whole body was tingling, gasps and moans getting louder. He ran his fingers through Dean's wild hair before locking his arms around his neck and kissed him. His head was swimming, the world tilting as Dean nudged his prostate and stole his breath away.

Strong hands caressed Punk's hips, before sliding around and squeezing his ass. Dean spread the cheeks, pushed them together, gripped them hard, he moaned into his lovers mouth, he couldn't get enough of being with Punk. The mixture of hard muscles, and soft skin, the breathy gasps, he was perfect. He ran his hands up Punk's fuzzy thighs, rippling the skin. 'I love these thighs.' He whispered hotly against Punk's lips. Punk nuzzled against him smiling sweetly, as a hand wrapped around his dick. Dean licked at the tattoo behind his ear, nibbled at the lobe. 'I love this dick.' He took another generous squeeze of Punk's ass and smirked up at him. 'And I love this ass.' He leant up and kissed Punk feverishly. 'You're fucking perfect, baby. Beautiful.'

Punk ducked his head, hiding the blush on his cheeks and kissed and licked at Dean's throat. He heard the soft rumble of Dean's chuckle, and couldn't fight a smile from forming. He clenched his muscles and his ass tightened around Dean's dick and that chuckle evolved into a deep guttural moan as Punk leant back and smirked down at his boyfriend. Dean held Punk still whilst fully inside him and with a grab of Punk's ass he thrust up hard and rough, he knocked Punk off balance who fell into his chest. Punk tried to regain his balance, but Dean kept pumping hard and fast and Punk couldn't stop swaying with the motion. Low groans and shuddering breaths kept escaping Punk as Dean plunged deep and hard inside of him, nailing his prostate every time. Punk reached out for the back of the couch, gaining purchase he finally managed to gain some balance. He rearranged his body, resting higher on his knees, his legs wider spread and hands back wrapped around Dean's neck. With the new position Dean was thrusting deeper, faster and harder. The sounds of their bodies colliding loud and frequent as Dean set a frenetic pace. He was close and from the way Punk was heaving and sweating and the little erotic pants and gasps he was certain Punk was close too. Punk confirmed Dean's thoughts as he took his dick in hand and started stroking himself matching Dean's pace. Dean kissed, and sucked and nibbled at Punk's chest, his tongue swirling around Punk's nipples. Punk whimpered, his senses on overdrive, his body overly stimulated as he erupted and coated Dean's chest and stomach in his cum. Seeing Punk come undone in his arms and all over his skin sent Dean over the edge as he slammed up hard into Punk and released deep inside of him. Dean moans were muffled as his hot breath got lost in Punk's colourful tattooed chest. Dean continued to pump his hips, his dick giving a few last spurts before he slowed and sank back into the comfort of the couch.

Punk felt limp. His body humming, but completely lethargic. He was damp with sweat, his skin hot and glowing. He kept his head buried in the crook of Dean's neck, perfectly content and happy to be in Dean's embrace. He smiled as familiar hands ran over his skin. Up his thighs, stroking down his spine to his ass. Every feather light touch made little shivers travel and reverberate all over him. The quiet, sensual after glow always felt so peaceful. The careful, considerate, affectionate and loving treatment from Dean in the aftermath always filled him with a strange warmth that burst fiercely from his chest. He felt Dean's rapidly softening dick slip free from him and trickles of cum run down his thighs. He snuggled closer and Dean returned the sentiment as he cuddled him close.

Dean knew he would never grow tired of this. Sex with Punk was out of this world, an intimacy never before felt. He felt so linked, so close, so attached to Punk and he relished every single second of it. From the heat of passion, where it was loud and frenzied to the hushed, soft moments in the after glow. It all meant so much to him. A high that could not be bettered, and when that excitement hits his bloodstream and pulses through his veins it makes these moment mean so much to him. The memories would keep him going whilst he's on the road, when he's alone and wishing for Punk's company. A constant reminder of what he has waiting for him in Chicago. He adores that warm feeling that comes over him, and that explosion of love that makes his chest tight and his heart pound.

...

New Years day was a low key affair. No grandiose plans were made, just a day spent eating, drinking and curled up on the couch in each others company. It suited both Punk and Dean to the ground. A simple, quiet day spent alone in each others presence was perfect, and both didn't have a single wish for anything else.

Punk was wrapped up all around Dean, arms and legs entwined with his head on Dean's chest just under his chin. Gentle barely there touches as they led peaceful and tranquil with the television on. 'I would ya know?' Dean said out of the blue.

'What?' Punk asked as he nuzzled closer and tighter against him.

'Quit.' Dean answered as he hugged Punk closer. Practically the whole day he had had Punk in his arms, and he was loving ever minute of it. He wanted him close. Felt like he needed him close. He'd become his oxygen. It was a startling realisation that he was so in need of him. He had been independent for so long, but now he felt so deeply attached and wanting that company. 'To be with you, I would ya know?'

Punk smiled affectionately and kissed Dean tenderly on the lips. 'Well you don't have to. I'm yours no matter what. I'll miss you like crazy when you're gone, but I'll be here waiting for you to come home.'

'Home?'

Punk grinned lovingly. 'Yeah, home.' His grin was returned, Dean's dimples popping as they kissed passionately. Suddenly Punk pulled away and left Dean's warm embrace. He ignored Dean's questioning and pleas to return as he rushed over to the other side of the room. He crouched down, found the discarded plug and pushed it back into the socket. The Christmas tree lights came back to life, their colours shining brightly onto the wall like a newly painted canvas. They restarted their journey and Punk curled back up into Dean on the couch and sighed full of content and bliss. He had all that he needed. All that he wanted. There was no more whirling vortex in his chest anymore, he knew they would make it work. There would be trials and tribulations, inevitable ups and downs, but every relationship has to jump some hurdles along the way, but more than anything Punk was certain that they were made for each other and that was all that mattered.

So Punk snuggled closer as Dean stroked up and down his back, and he found himself caught up watching those flashing colours again. He saw the lights twinkle and light up the room. All the colours would still blend and then separate, but instead of falling into a dark maudlin state like he did twenty four hours ago Punk was now deliriously happy. Instead he watched them flash and sparkle happily as Dean ran his slender fingers through his hair and kissed him softly on the head. Punk knew from now on he would no longer be found chasing lights.

...

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><p><strong>I'm filled with anxiety over this pairing as it's such new territory, but fingers crossed you enjoyed it as much as the first one. Or at least still liked it. I thought that with Dean still with WWE and travelling the world separation would be a major factor to address in their relationship and something poor Punk and Dean would worry about and it would play on their mind and so this story was born. Maybe at some point in the future more PunkBrose will be written by me as I enjoy the challenge, but I'm not entirely sure, we'll see what happens.<strong>

**I'm always grateful for feedback on my work, so if you feel like it a review is always appreciated, but no pressure! And thank you for reading! :)**


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